


Burn and Break and Again Remake

by CC99trialanderrorgirl



Category: Eureka (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Crying, F/M, Friends first has it's benefits, Handcuffs, Het, Intense sexytimes between Jo and Zane, It's...explosive, Jo knows all of Zane's fantasies, Jo plays it a little Dommy and Zane almost comes in his pants, Light Dom/sub, Making Out, No Angst, PWP, Porn with Feelings, Squirting, Swearing, Tons of UST finally resolved, Whip used as a prop, this is pretty dirty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:21:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22188523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CC99trialanderrorgirl/pseuds/CC99trialanderrorgirl
Summary: Zane can't take it any more, and he and Jo end up fucking in the Sheriff's Station. There are handcuffs involved, and Jo doms it up for a desperate, restrained Zane. Pretty much just full-on dirty Jo/Zane porn here.
Relationships: Zane Donovan/Jo Lupo
Comments: 7
Kudos: 20





	Burn and Break and Again Remake

“Come on, Lupo,” he drawls, “ _interrogate_ _me_.” He punctuates the purred statement with a wink and a smirk, eyeteeth gleaming. He’s a devil and she’s sure he knows it. She has to ignore him. So Jo adjusts her legs underneath her desk in the Sheriff’s Office, rolls her eyes, and wills herself not to notice how tight his shirt is over his pecs, or how it makes her panties just a little bit wet to see his nipples peak out from behind the thin fabric.

He tries again. He’s been doing this for hours now, been flirting playfully with her ever since Carter dropped him off to work on some urgent late-night hacking matter. Zane had finished his task in less than thirty minutes, but hadn’t left. Currently, he is lounging with his backside against Carter’s desk, staring her down and waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

She grits her teeth, and forces herself to return to the paperwork in front of her. A bead of sweat slides down her neck and into her décolletage. The silence stretches out between them, making the room feel hot and close. She does her best to breathe evenly, feeling her chest heave up and down. It’s for the best, ignoring what’s blossoming between them. It’s too real, it’s too much, and she just can’t. The tension is palpable; the silence stretches like a chasm between them. It’s Zane who breaks it.

“Seriously JoJo, I’m dying here.” Something about his tone is different. His words are more urgent, rushed, and sound a little bit like he hadn’t meant to say them at all. It makes her sit up and take notice. She looks at him.

“What?” She keeps her tone careful, even. But she can’t quite contain her shock at his unexpected loss of control.

“ _God_ , Jo, _please_ ,” he says. He doesn’t even use his annoying nickname for her. His eyes are burning, and every sizable muscle in his body is pulled taught with tension. He looks almost pained. Anxious, she reaches up and undoes the first two buttons on her uniform. Zane’s eyes seem to bore into her, tracking her every movement. The muscles in his neck jump, and he grips the desk behind him harder.

“Zane?” She asks, tentative. This is uncharted ground. A sound escapes him, something she’s never heard from him before. She leans forward instinctively, and her blouse gapes open a little. Zane groans louder, gaze locked onto her cleavage seemingly without his consideration or consent. He slumps back, the desk now taking most of his weight as his eyes grow dark and his expression grows desperate.

She doesn’t know what to say. She’d known their will-they-or-won’t-they game was hard on him – hell, it was hard on her, too, even if she didn’t admit it. After that one kiss, after the timeline change, after living as friends for so long, after all of it…she can’t say she hasn’t felt the strain, even as their friendship has blossomed. But Zane…he looks like a man driven to the brink. He looks…literally pained.

And she can see why. As his focus has slipped more and more to land squarely on her breasts and his breathing has speed up to match the rise and fall of her chest, his pants have gotten considerably tighter. Unconsciously, she darts her tongue out to lick her lips.

Zane falls to his knees on the floor.

Jo is up in an instant, rushing around the desk, the scrape of her chair moving back the only sound in the room aside from their harsh breathing. 

“No,” he says, eyes wild and desperate as he looks up at her. “Seriously, JoJo, I can’t do this anymore. God, I shouldn’t have stayed. Just…just go. I can’t –”

His voice breaks then, and Jo slides to her knees in front of him. His fingers dig into his own thighs as he ducks his head, mumbling. “Jesus, _please_ , I can’t stop myself,” he says.

“Excuse me?” Jo replies, quiet and confused.

He whips his gaze up, blue eyes burning fire, pupils blown so dark their centers are almost black.

“I can’t stop myself, Jo! Okay? I can’t fucking hold back for one second longer! So get away from me, okay? For the love of God, I can’t do this for one more second!” He’s screaming, desperate, and Jo knows that if this were anyone else, she’d be very, very afraid. Instead, she feels something else.

She looks him straight in the eye and says, “I’m dripping wet right now.”

His face goes so tense that she’s almost worried for his health.

“Josephina, I am seriously afraid of myself right now, and you go and _say that?_ You can’t just _say that!_ Now, I’m going to ask one more time. Would you please, for the love of God, get the fuck away from me? I’m trying to warn you, nobody is this strong and I will not be made to do something I regret!” He’s yelling again, voice breaking. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen anybody this turned on in her entire life. Hell, _she’s_ never been this turned on in her entire life.

“How about,” she says slowly with a grin, “I help you with that self control?”

“Wha–” he starts to say, but cuts himself off with a gasp as she grabs his wrist and handcuffs him to the office cell. Then she gets up, saunters to the door, and locks it. She turns down the lights too.

“There we go, that’s better,” she says as she returns, fingers slowly undoing the rest of the buttons on her blouse as she walks.

Zane looks shell-shocked. He yanks at his bonds, desperate to touch her.

“Aghh,” he yells, wordless in his frustration.

“Ah-ah,” Jo smiles, “you said you wanted to have self control. But good boys have to _earn_ control. And sometimes, what they really need is to not be given _any at all_.”

Zane is hyperventilating now, gasping for air as Jo reveals a very dominatrix-worthy black bra under her blouse. Zane realizes it’s one that he bought for her all those years ago – the timeline might have changed but his taste in lingerie definitely hasn’t. She throws the shirt aside, now wearing only her gun belt, pants, and boots. Carefully she unbuckles the belt and locks it in her desk drawer. Then she unlocks another drawer and pulls out a black whip. The one he gave her as a prank.

“Oh, God,” he chokes. Impossibly, his cock swells larger as she stalks toward him, gently tracing the edge over the contours of his face. He’s pretty sure he’s leaking through his jeans at this point. Jo follows his glance and laughs.

“Bad boy indeed,” she says. “You’re ruining your pants.”

Briefly, she squats down and cups him through the dampened fabric. “Oh my _God_ ,” he roars, oversensitive and in disbelief. She lets go and leans over him, careful not to let any part of her body touch his.

“Don’t touch,” she warns, and his fingers tighten around the bars of the cell behind him even as his hips arch up, seeking, aching.

“Tell me, Zane,” she says into his ear. “Do you like this?”

“Yes, yes, _fuck_ , yes,” he splutters, desperate. “So much.”

“Is this what you’ve always dreamed of?” She whispers, voice sultry and low.

“Jesus Christ, _yes_ ,” he sobs.

“Why?” She asks, leaning back a little bit.

He looks away. “You know why…”

“I do,” she smirks. “Do you like that? Do you like that I know you well enough as a friend – and more,” she concedes, “to know all of these things about you? All of your deepest, darkest secrets? Dreams? _Desires_?”

“Ah,” he roars again, “Jesus Christ, JoJo, I’m going to come in my pants if you keep doing this,” he cries. He’s speaking almost too fast to enunciate his words. Zane Donovan, genius extraordinaire and undisputed king of snark, brought low by desire for her…this has got to be the hottest thing Jo has ever seen.

She leans down again, making sure to just barely brush her breasts over his peaked nipples. He jerks violently and wrenches his head to the side in a sort of physical plea, but mostly holds his position. “Do you want to know a secret?” she whispers.

He nods. “Ye- _yes_.”

“I can barely control myself right now. I don’t know how much longer I can do this before I just…unbuckle those jeans of yours, rip off my clothes, and just _take_ _you_.”

Wordlessly, Zane’s mouth falls open. There are tears in his eyes.

“Four years, Jo. Maybe more, depending on how you account for the timeline. But if you don’t fuck me in the next four _seconds_ , I am _literally going to die_. Shit, Jesus, _please._ ”

And that’s it, she can’t take it anymore. She’s yanking open her pants, throwing them across the room along with her boots. Her fingers scrabble at Zane’s belt buckle until she successfully undoes it. She yanks the fly down desperately and pulls his cock out. Her mouth waters looking at it.

“Oh my God,” she says, and she’s frozen for a moment, unable to take her eyes off it. Then she’s lifting a leg, throwing it over him, yanking her black panties to one side and sliding down on him in one slick motion.

Zane screams and throws his head back as she mounts him. His head hits the bars with an audible clang, but he doesn’t care. His free hand comes around to grab the back of her neck, dragging her into a brutal, dirty kiss, all open mouths and teeth and tongue. Saliva drips down Jo’s chin as they tongue-fuck each other, and then she lifts herself up and slides back down. She’s so wet that it makes a sound every time she moves on him.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” he groans.

So she does it again. Her entire body is covered with sweat as she fucks herself on Zane’s lap. He uses his free hand to grab at her, buries his face in her breasts, drinks in her every movement.

“Jo, Jo, Jo,” he starts to chant, and that’s it, he’s about to explode, she’s about to see stars.

He starts to come inside her just as she seizes up around him, and amazingly, she starts to squirt. She soaks his jeans, the hem of his shirt, and the floor around him as she convulses in his arms. He holds her through it, gasping curses and pulling uselessly where his wrist is still tethered to the cell lattice.

When she finally starts to come down, she slumps forward in his arms. He takes her bodyweight against his chest and moans, utterly spent.

“Fuck, JoJo,” he groans, "I can’t live without this. Without you. You know that, right?”

“I love you, too, Zane,” she says, lips on his throat.

They stay like that for a while, until it all starts to feel gross, and Jo shifts off him to retrieve the key and free his wrist. He looks so debauched and sexy, she wants to do it all over again.

“I’ve, uh, never done that before, you know,” he says, tone forced casual as he absently rubs his wrist. Jo is in the cupboard, looking for towels to clean up, but turns around to look at him.

“The submission…” he clarifies, slightly embarrassed.

“It was the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Jo says, leaving him no room for shame or regret. “Thank you for trusting me.” She smiles.

He smiles back.

“I’ve watched porn of that for years. I’m a dirty bastard, but I figured…you know…girls look at me and…”

“Yeah,” Jo says. “Same reason people are surprised that I love ballet. I get it.”

“Yeah…” he says, and flexes, tries for a laugh.

“I’m not most people,” she says. “I liked that, too. A lot,” she laughs. “You don’t have to pretend with me. Ever.”

“Yeah,” he says back. “I get that.”

She adjusts the chain around her neck that was knocked askew by the force of their love-making. The engagement ring glints from between her breasts. Zane looks at it and smiles. “Make sure you keep that safe,” he says. “I think we’re going to need it.”

“Yeah?” she asks, going back to her search for towels.

“Yeah,” he says, definitive. “Turns out this friends-first, getting-to-know each other shit…it’s hot as fuck. I’d be an idiot to let that get away. Thankfully, I have many degrees and a top secret security clearance proving that _I am not an idiot_.” He smirks, eyeteeth glinting and blue eyes bright with mischievous intent.

“Turns out there's smarts and practical application in both of us...” she smirks. “I think I heard somewhere that when you combine the correct elements, you get an _explosion_.”

Zane looks down at his lap and the soaking wet ground around him.

“Sure looks like we created a reaction.”


End file.
